


Summer Storm

by anarchychaos



Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Magic, Memory Loss, Mythology - Freeform, its all fine in the end i promise
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-03-31
Updated: 2017-03-31
Packaged: 2018-10-13 04:56:54
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 13,008
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10506723
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/anarchychaos/pseuds/anarchychaos
Summary: Steve gets sent to calm a storming deity, and ends up rescuing a scared, broken man instead.





	

Steve glanced out the window, his eyebrows scrunching together. It was snowing. In August.

He really shouldn’t be surprised. It had been like this for the past month or so, and everyone was getting really sick of it.

You see, Steve was what was often called a deity. He was an immortal figure assigned to a certain issue or group of people in the world, and his job was to protect, and promote, whoever or whatever he was assigned. However, there were many immortals, and some were more important than others. Currently, Steve was not a super big deal among the mortals. But, the sudden onslaught of winter storms was, in fact a very big deal.

As it was with immortals, as soon as the peculiar snowstorms had begun, fingers, paws, and tentacles were suddenly pointing left and right. Some blamed the summer goddess for not taking control of the issue, others believed that the four winds had suddenly teamed up against humanity, blowing all sorts of lousy weather. But, mostly, the blame was pinned on one reclusive god: the Winter Deity.

As to be expected, there were specific deity's for nearly everything there was. Each deity went by two names: One the was used by the mortals, and one that was used by their fellow gods and goddesses (this name was often referred to as their True Name). For example: Steve was known to the other gods as Steve, but to the mortals, he was called Dìonday.

Now, the funny thing about the winter deity was, nobody knew what he was called on earth. Nobody could really remember his True Name either. Some called him Barnes, or James, but, commonly, he was called Buchanan. It was said that the mortals told their children stories about how terrible Buchanan was, and, to be honest, the gods told their children the same.

However, Steve was having none of it.

If the Winter Deity was going to keep pouting, someone had to do something about it.

Hopefully that person didn’t have to be Steve. Don’t get him wrong, he would love to be the one to straighten that guy out. It’s just-he was pretty tiny. Both physically, and when it came to his prayer volume.

See, in Malhad-where all the deity's worked and lived-you were often measured by how many prayers you got each day. Steve’s average was around five hundred. It was awful.

Steve didn’t really know what he expected, he was the deity of one thing: he protected those who had strong hearts. That was it. Some people had what felt like a thousand different things to watch over. Take Natasha for example-she was the goddess of summer, but also the goddess of happiness and joy. The mortals called her Chernaya. She had billions of prayers each day, which really put Steve’s prayers in perspective.

Due to her large influence, many people had been pestering her to take over from Buchanan, but it seemed as if Natasha was really enjoying her extra time off. She usually had to prep all year for summer, and now that she was completely prepped, she was ready to take over whenever Buchanan was done with his ‘temper tantrum’ as she called it.

Steve’s phone rang, pulling him out of his head. He glanced at the caller ID, and picked it up. “Hey Tasha! I was just thinking about you, what’s up?”

“Steve. Are you okay?” Natasha said seriously, causing for Steve to adopt a more serious expression.

“Yeah? I’m fine. The storms seem to be getting worse, but I’ll be okay. Why?”

“We’ve had reports of three different deities getting injured while they stayed on earth. Plus, your health might not be able to handle it. Fury’s ordered for me to have you come back.” Fury was the king of the immortals. Nobody where he came from, but they all trusted him.

“Why?” Steve asked, slightly annoyed “I’ve been fine for the past weeks, and it’s easier to do my job when I’m closer to who I’m getting prayers from,”

Natasha sighed. “I know, Steve. But Buchanan’s getting to be too dangerous for us to have anyone down there, especially someone like you,”

Steve roller his eyes, but he felt a slight blush rising to his cheeks. “I’m not that important, Natasha,”

“Steve. Please come back. You’re the last one left on earth. I can send for someone to come get you, if you want?”

Steve sighed. “Okay. Sure. When can you be here?” Steve heard a knock at the door. “Nevermind. See you, Natasha,”

Steve opened up the door to find Happy, a dark haired man, who-despite his name-never really smiled. The mortals called him Djem and he was known as the god of transportation.

Steve let the man in, slamming the door shut behind him. “Hey, Happy. Just give me a minute,” Steve walked around his small house, grabbing what he needed and stuffing it into a small bag. Happy began to stomp snow off his boots.

“Alright,” Steve said, turning around. “I’m ready,”

Happy stepped forward, grabbed both of Steve’s shoulders, and, in a sudden burst of light, Steve’s home vanished.

###############

Steve appeared in Fury’s court, slightly out of breath, with a few snowflakes clinging to hair.

Steve froze for a moment, before stumbling over his feet, and falling into a sloppy bow. “Your Highness,” He said, blushing deeply. Why did Happy deposit him here, of all places? Steve just wanted to go back to his rooms, maybe head to the library.

“Steven. What is it the mortals call you?” Fury asked, and Steve stood up, glancing around the room before answering.

“Dìonday, Sir,”

“What is your current prayer volume?”

Steve’s heart dropped. Sometimes, if deity's don’t get enough prayers per day, their immortal status is revoked, and is cast down to Earth. “Around 500 prayers a day, Sir,” Steve swallowed thickly. He was done for.

“As I’m sure you know, Steven, that is not a large number. In fact, it’s enough for me to have you immortality revoked,”

Steve remained silent, not trusting himself to speak.

“However, I will not cast you down into mortality-”

“Oh thank you, Sir I-” Steve being, before he is cut off by a raised eyebrow from Fury.

“-If you agree to do something for me,”

Steve swallowed, and then nodded, before daring to speak up. “What do you need me to do, Sir?”

“I need for you to calm Zelner,”

Steve sat for a moment, confused, before calling out again. “Who, Sir?”

“Zelner. James. Buchanan. Whatever you call him, I need him to be stopped,”

“Oh. Oh!” Steve said, suddenly realizing what Fury was asking him to do. It wasn’t uncommon for Fury to use unpopular gods to do his dirty work, but this was ridiculous.

“So?” Fury asked, looking at Steve expectantly.

Steve stood up straighter “I will do it, Sir,”

Fury nodded, and sat back, dismissing Steve with a wave of his hand. Steve gave a hasty bow, before quickly leaving his throne room, and running directly into Natasha.

“So?” She asked, looking at him knowingly.

Steve stepped around her, and began walking to his rooms, to collect what he could before leaving. “Jeez, Natasha. You’re like a spy!”

Natasha didn’t bat an eye. Steve gave in. “Fury wants me to get Buchanan to stop with the whole endless winter thing,”

“What?” Natasha asked, sounding incredulous.

Steve reached his rooms, and opened the door to let her in. Once they were inside, he sat down heavily on his bed, looking around for a second. “Yeah. I think I’m gonna go over to the Library to find out where he lives, and then I’ll head out in a couple days.”

“Wait, you’re really gonna do this? I’m sure we could get Fury to get you to do something else, I mean-”

Steve interrupted her “Tasha. I will be fine. I’ll see if I could get a couple of Helpers or something, I don’t know,”

Natasha didn’t seem convinced. “You sure? I’m a little worried that it might lead to you having a formal meeting with Loki,”

Steve gave an involuntary shudder. Steve had had more than enough brushes with the god of death when he was younger, and he wasn’t looking forward to another.

“If I need help, I’ll send for you, okay?”

Natasha nodded, and began walking to the door. Before she stepped out, she turned back to Steve, smirking. “Well, now that you’re gonna get Mr. Big and Bad to stop with his tantrums, I gotta figure out where I’m gonna pick up the slack,”

Steve smiled, and Natasha left the room, leaving Steve to contemplate just what he had gotten himself into.

###############

That night, Steve headed down to the Library, where the Gods of Wisdom lived. At first, only a man who went by Dr. Eric Selvig was dubbed the God of Wisdom, but, due to the stress of the job, he ended up going insane in an attempt to know everything. So, it was now a title held by five people. Tony, who specializing in engineering, inventions, and mechanics, Bruce, who was known for his knowledge of the human genetic makeup, Along with Jane, Darcy, and Dr. Abraham Erskine. Jane was the goddess of different universes, realities, and galaxies, and Darcy was the goddess of human interaction, emotions, and opinion. Erskine tended to pick up most of the slack, but his main focuses were languages, reading, and writing.

However, when Steve entered, only two of the five gods were there. Tony and Bruce were bickering over some dangerous-looking thing that had begun to take over not only Tony’s desk but Bruce’s too. Steve grinned and went off to find the Maps himself.

The Maps were a series of papers that held maps, addresses, and shortcuts to everywhere and everyone in Malhad. However, it was really hard to find the maps without Erskine’s help, as they had the tendency to turn into animate objects and roam around the Library.

Steve sighed, squared his shoulders, and set to his task.

###############

“Okay,” Steve said, breathing hard, his hair tousled and his glasses askew “This was a mistake,”

She had spent the last two hours chasing the paper scrolls around the Library, pausing every few minutes to check his breathing. Now, he was defeated. He had tripped over a curiously small table, and then tried to sit up, only to find that one of the more interactive storybooks had opened, and that tiny people had tied him down with small ropes in a reenactment of Goliath.

Steve groaned, and let his head flop back onto the floor, trying to ignore the tinny yelling coming from the small people. Steve was deaf in his left ear, and their extremely high-pitched voice was not making understanding them any easier for him.

Thankfully, Tony came around the corner a few moments later. “What are you doing?” He asked after staring at Steve for a moment.

Steve rolled his eyes, before sarcastically replying. “Playing darts. Help me up!”

Tony reached down and closed the book, watching the ropes and people disappear, before reaching down to help Steve up.

“Were you looking for something important?”

“Yeah,” Steve began fixing his glasses and hair. “Erskine wasn’t here, so I decided to go find the Maps on my own,”

“Well,” Tony said, standing up straighter. “I just so happen to have an invention that perfectly fits your needs,” Steve motioned for Tony to lead the way, and following him back to his desk.

Tony pulled out a small contraption that looked suspiciously like a snitch. “Did you watch Harry Potter recently?” Steve asked, watching as Tony twisted the wing a few times, causing for a small claw to descend from the invention.

“Perhaps. I figured I had better understand Human culture so that I could easily best it,” Tony replied. He was constantly trying to seem very uppity and important-especially when it came to mortal. But Steve knew that, in fact, Tony just really liked Harry Potter.

“Right,” Steve said, watching as Tony threw the Snitch-thing into the air.

“I call it an Affer,” Tony said proudly.

“That is the dumbest thing I have ever heard. How does it work?”

Tony then launched into a long and lengthy monologue about how it worked using Star Magic (whatever that was), and would only return once it had collected all the papers.

Luckily, the Affer’s return cut Tony’s speech short, and Steve was able to escape without questioning whether or not Tony was actually a god, or just an alien toying with them.

###############

Once Steve got back to his rooms, he looked over the Maps, carefully copying any important information onto a blank piece of paper. He eventually figured out that, since Buchanan’s residence was at the very edge of Malhad, it would take him two days to complete the journey on foot. Steve was sure that Happy could give him a ride if he wanted to, but Steve hadn’t had the chance to go on a real walk since he had been stationed on earth, and it would be good for his lungs to get some fresh air.

Steve packed the necessary clothing and supplies, along with a few sketchbooks and pencils. Luckily, thanks to Tony, Steve was easily able to fit all of his stuff into a small knapsack, which expanded on the inside as you put and more things in. Thankfully, always felt as light as it would be if it was empty.

After Steve finished packing, he heard a knock on the door. “Come on in!” he called, closing the flap on the knapsack. Natasha stood at the door, along with Clint, the god of archery, and, strangely, hawks. “Hey guys!” Steve said, walking towards the door and stepping out beside them.

As they started walking down to the dining hall, Clint shook his head and clapped Steve on the back. “I can’t believe you’re agreeing to this. Are you sure?”

Steve shrugged “I don’t really have much of a choice. Besides. I’ll be okay. By the way, remind me to pick up some food for the trip after we eat,”

Clint nodded, and they walked the rest of the way to dinner in silence.

###############

Upon arriving the dining hall, Steve’s ears were met with a flurry of noise.

There were roughly two hundred deities living in the Main Palace at Malhad, with many more living on in the near villages, or on the outskirts. Every deity within walking distance of the Main Palace was invited to whatever meals, balls, and celebrations were held within the Palace. So, understandably, there were a lot of people.

Steve, Natasha, and Clint began walking towards their usual table, where most of their friends already sat. As soon as they sat down, plates piled with their favorite foods appeared in front of them. Steve ate slowly, laughing and talking with his friends.

Pretty soon, the conversation turned over to what Tony insisted upon calling ‘Steve’s Quest’.

“Alright, Steve, what’s the plan? When are we leaving,” Tony asked him, clapping him on the back.

“Um,” Steve said, quickly swallowing his mashed potatoes. “I’m just gonna go on my own,”

The table fell silent. Steve put his head down, and kept eating. Finally, Bruce spoke up. “Are you sure? Fury wouldn’t mind if we went with and it could be dangerous-”

“I’ll be fine, Bruce,” Steve cut in, starting to get a little upset. He had taken care of himself for over a millenia. Why did his friends suddenly think that he wouldn’t be able to calm down some dude throwing a temper tantrum?

“When are you leaving?” Tony asked, and Steve rolled his eyes.

“Tomorrow afternoon,” Steve replied.

“Perfect! We’ll stop by your rooms around twelve, as the sun goes!”

Steve nodded, and resumed eating. He would have to leave early the next morning, then. That would help him get a head start on the trip, and avoid Tony, who couldn’t get up sooner than eleven thirty.

He finished his food quickly, and snapped his fingers. As his plate disappeared, He turned to his friends. “I’m gonna go get some food for tomorrow and then head to sleep,”

They murmured in agreement, all focusing on a group of younger boys across the hall. Peter Parker was being held up by Wade Wilson while Harry Osborn laughed maliciously.

Steve headed down to the kitchens, and stopped at the door. He knocked a few times, before a small clay figure appeared. The entire kitchen was run by small Golems, which sometimes led to people eating a small piece of clay. “I need some food for a two or three day journey. Could you not pack any peanuts? I’m allergic. Thank you!”

Steve stepped away from the door, and waited a few minutes, before three small figures appeared, struggling to carry a medium sized basket. Steve stepped forward, and took it from them, thanking each of the individually, before turning and walking back up to his rooms.

When he got there, he put the basket down near his packed supplies, and pulled off his clothing, before changing into more comfortable sleeping clothes.

He laid down on his bed, and closed his eyes, falling to sleep in seconds.

###############

The next morning, Steve woke up nice and early to leave before Tony and everyone else would get up.

He put on warm clothing, and, pulling on his pack and grabbing the basket, and headed down to the back entrance of the Main Palace.

The Palace had about ten entrances, each of which opened to different parts of Malhad. The back entrance was the only one that put him on the right path towards Buchanan’s dwelling. As far as Steve could tell, his house was the only one that was to the back of the Palace, which was strange, considering just how much land was out there.

Steve walked along the pathway, humming to himself, watching the birds. Malhad was up in the sky, but it was low enough that you could see it from earth. Malahd rotated around the earth constantly. It had actually been the inspiration for satellites, something Tony had been extremely excited about. Steve couldn’t remember where they were supposed to be at the moment, but it must have been somewhere tropical, as the sky was full of brightly colored birds with long, flowing tails.

After a little while, Steve stopped to eat breakfast and sketch. A few small animals attempted to steal some of his food, which led to him splitting up a chunk of cheese and distributing it among the animals who had gathered near him.

Soon after, he continued along his way, keeping a steady pace and drinking water when he needed.

Steve stopped for lunch late, which led to him only eating a quick snack for dinner, before he stretched out his sleeping mat and laying down to get some rest.

When Steve woke the next morning, there was a second body sitting near him, and he heard the popping and crackling of a fire. He sat up abruptly, and straightened his glasses before staring for a moment. The man in front of him and dark skin, and large, metallic wings tucked behind him. He was cooking some meat and eggs over the fire. “Um,” Steve said, looking at him for a moment.

The guy looked up, and smiled, before turning back to the food. “Hey. I’m Sam, otherwise known as Pagsa. I’m god of birds, protectors, and human understanding,”

Steve nodded, gathering his thoughts. “I’m Steve, god of anyone with a strong heart. My followers call me Dìonday. Now, how did you find me?”

“I was scouting the birds around here last night, and noticed a lot of vultures circling. So, I headed over, and saw that you were sleeping down here. I shooed them away, and decided to hang for the night. Want some eggs?” He scooped out some eggs and meat onto a large stone, and handed some to Steve. She accepted, before reaching into his pack and passing Sam some cheese and bread, and taking some for himself.

“Thanks,” Steve said, as he begun eating. After they had finished their breakfast, Sam spoke up again.

“So, where’re you heading?”

“You know who Buchanan is?”

Sam nodded “He’s been terrorizing half of the birds population for the past three months. What about it?”

Steve took a deep breath “I gotta get him to stop, or I get turned into a mortal,”

Sam’s eyes widened “Did Fury put you up to that? He gives the craziest missions every once in awhile,”

Steve nodded “I’ve got about a day's trip till I reach his house. Hopefully I can stop him without dying,”

“I’d go with you, but I gotta report back to the rest of the Nature Gods in a couple of hours,”

“Good luck,” Steve said, rising to his feet and stuffing his things into his bag. “I’m gonna head out. Nice meeting you, Sam,”

Sam stood up. “Listen, Steve, take this,” He pushed a bird-shaped whistle into Steve’s hand. “If you need help or anything, blow on this. I can be there in fifteen minutes. Okay?”

Steve nodded, putting the whistle in his pocket. “Thanks,” He turned around, and began walking. Most of the time, people didn’t accept strange whistles from strange people, but with deities it was different. They looked out for each other, they had to. There weren’t a lot of them, which meant that they were constantly in danger of going extinct. Deities weren’t immortal, per say. If they died, they were reincarnated as a mortal, but then their life petered out extremely fast. It was very rare for a mortal to gain immortality.

The longer Steve walked, the more nervous he got. Hopefully, it would be easy to calm Buchanan down. If not, he had two options: run, or call Sam. Or maybe he could do both at the same time, he mused. Then he mentally shook himself, reminding him that, if he did run away, he was saying goodbye to all chances of remaining immortal. He had to stop Buchanan. There was no other option.

###############

Steve approached Buchanan’s house as the sun was going down. The air around here was colder, and Steve couldn’t tell if it was because night was coming, or because of who he was approaching. He stepped onto the front porch, steeled himself, and knocked.

Honestly, Steve had expected the guy to at least come to the door, or start grumbling or shuffling around. But, instead, there was silence. Steve knocked again, louder this time. He waited a few minutes. Nothing.

So, Steve tried the door. It was open. He stepped inside, expecting for Buchanan to come running and cursing. He didn’t.

Steve closed the door inside of him, shrugging off his pack, and setting his basket of food down. “Hello?” He called tentatively, treading lightly throughout the small house. Normally, important deities were given big, grand accommodations, but it seems that Buchanan had either been forced to live here, or requested something small and remote.

 

He turned the corner, and saw that the door to what must have been the bedroom was cracked. Steve peeked inside, cringing when the rusty hinges squeaked.

“Hello?” Steve called again, looking into the seemingly empty room. “Is anyone there?” He listened carefully, and surveyed the room. All of the blankets and covers from the bed had been strewn over to the end of the bed, and there was a fine layer of dust over everything. Steve looked back at the bed, his eyebrows drawn together. It almost looked as if someone had fallen off the bed, onto-

Steve walked around the bed, looking at the floor, before gasping slightly. A man was lying there, shivering, and jerking slightly. Steve knelt down, and began to try to shake the man awake. “Buchanan!” He called, shaking the man harder. He began trying name he had heard people calling the deity “Zelner! Barnes!” Steve kept shaking, looking worriedly at the man's blue lips. “James!” he called, and, suddenly, the man sat up abruptly, breathing hard.

He stayed staring right ahead, body still shaking. “James. James!” Steve repeated, before he shifted his position, and grabbed the man's face in his hand, turning his head so that his blue eyes focused on Steve. “James,” Steve said calmly, as the man’s face started to focus on his “I need you to take deeth breaths, okay? My name is Steve, and you're going to be okay now. Hey. Eyes on me. Try to match my breathing, okay?”

Steve began to take deep breaths, breathing in through his mouth and out through his nose. After a few minutes, James had matched his breathing, and he had visibly calmed. “You okay?” Steve asked, and, after the man nodded, Steve let go of his face, and sagged.

The temperature in the room had risen noticeably as James had calmed down, and now neither man was shivering.

“Thank you,” James said, before standing up, and offering Steve his hand. Steve nodded, and allowed himself to be pulled up.

“So,” James said, still looking a little shaken. “Do you want some tea?”

###############

Steve followed James into the kitchen, still feeling a little confused. Was this kind of thing normal? Was Steve going to have to tell him that he had been out of it for months? Did James even know that he was capable of creating such a strong winter, especially when he was catatonic?

Steve took the offered cup from James, and sat down at a rickety table, setting his cup in the dust.

“Did Fury send you to check up on me? I didn’t think that he was gonna check until May,”

Steve startled, and steeled himself for a moment, before breaking the news to James. “James, May was two months ago,”

“What?” James asked, confused.

“As far as I can tell, you’ve been lying there on your floor for the past six months. I got sent here because, while you were out, you started causing these huge freak storms.”

James stared at Steve, before cursing and clutching his head in his hands. “Damn Peirce,” he muttered, so quiet Steve could barely hear him.

“What does Peirce have to do with all of this?” Steve asked, even more confused than before.

James sat up suddenly. “Nothing. Did you say your name was Steve?”

Steve nodded, and held out his hand. “Steve Rogers, pleased to meet you,”

James smiled, and shook Steve’s hand. “Call me Bucky,” He said. “All my friends do,”

Steve nodded, and then playfully raised an eyebrow. “So we’re friends now?”

“Well, I figured, you save a fellas life, you gotta be friends with him, right?”

Steve ducked his head, blushing a little. “I wouldn’t say I saved your life…”

Bucky sat back, smiling playfully. “So modest, Steve,” then he leaned forward. “So, how did you get picked to come stop my sorry ass?”

Steve shrugged, looking up to meet Bucky’s eyes. “I’m in danger of losing my immortality. Although, I guess I don’t have to worry anymore…”

Bucky’s eyes clouded, and he began to speak angrily. “I don’t understand that at all. Why couldn’t he have just come to get me himself? He didn’t need to send you to do his dirty work. Manipulative bastard,” Bucky glowered, and he looked to ridiculous Steve had to stop from laughing.

“I have to agree, but I didn’t have much of a choice,”

Bucky nodded, before he stood up. “Do you have to report back to him?”

Steve shook his head. “He didn’t tell me to. It might be best for us to head back to his court though, to let him know that everything’s okay,”

Bucky nodded “Well, how about you stick around for a couple of weeks? Let me get my bearings. I got a spare room and everything,”

Steve shrugged, and nodded. “I don’t see why not. Are you hungry?”

Bucky nodded, and Steve got up to walk to his food stock. However, when he opened the cabinets, they seemed to be mostly bare. “You got any food in here?” Steve asked, before turning to get his food basket from down the hall.

“What?” Bucky asked, confused, before he opened the cupboard himself. “Huh. I could have sworn-” He stopped himself, looking outside at the craggy cliffside that was viewable outside his window. “Oh?” he said softly, and, before Steve could ask what was wrong, he started talking again. “I should have some vegetables left outside. And I can get someone to deliver some bread and stuff by tomorrow. That sound okay?”

Steve nodded “Let me grab what I have left in my pack. I think I still have some bread and cheese,”

Steve walked back into the front hall, grabbing his basket. He felt a little confused. Something was definitely up with Bucky, and he just couldn't figure out what.

Steve brought the basket, back to the kitchen, and began to look for a knife to cut up the rest of his last loaf of bread. Just as he finished getting everything on a plate, Bucky walked in, coming through a door in the kitchen that presumably led to the backyard. He was carrying some large tomatoes, along with a few carrots and peas.

He handed the tomatoes to Steve, who washed them, and then began to cut them up. As he sliced them, Bucky peeled the carrots and shucked the peas into a small bowl. After the tomatoes were sliced, Steve took the carrots from Bucky and cut them into smaller chunks, He then placed the carrot stick into the bowl, beside the peas, and Bucky carried them out to the table.

“So,” He said, sitting down, placing the food next to him. “I don’t know about you, but I really don’t feel like going to sleep tonight. I might try to catch up on some of the latest mortal trends, but, if you wanna sleep, I can keep it down,”

Steve shrugged, and swallow a bite of tomato and cheese. “Sounds good. I don’t want to sleep either. However, might I recommend that we watch a comedy?”

“Sure. I think I’m gonna take a shower beforehand though. I feel pretty gross,”

“You look fine to me,” Steve said, before sneezing.

“Bless you. Allergies?” Bucky raised a concerned eyebrow, and Steve laughed a little.

“Dust,” Steve replied, before he started wheezing slightly.

Bucky’s eyes widened, and his raised his hand, and Steve felt a gust of wind blow throughout the house. All the dust blew off of the countertops, and out through a couple open windows.

“You okay?” Bucky asked, still looking a little worried.

“Yeah,” Steve said, coughing a few times “I just have asthma,”

“I thought only mortals had asthma,”

“Me too,” Steve grumbled, and Bucky chuckled a little.

They ate the rest of their meal in silence, before Bucky picked up the empty bowl and clean plate, putting it in the sink.

“I’m gonna go take a shower, and then we can watch something. Holler if you need anything,”

Steve nodded, and headed to his pack to grab his sketchpad. He sat on the couch, drawing the room around him. He stayed like that for a little while, before a gust of wind blew through the house, carrying with it one of Fury’s magic mirrors.

Most of the time, Fury would use these for communications, or for sending warming to small towns. It landed in front of Steve, and began to play a message.

“Steve,” Fury’s voice came from the mirror, which remained blank “The winter had stopped on earth, so I can assume that you managed to calm Zelner. Wait until he is stable, and then bring him back here for reciprocation,” The message ended, and the mirror flew away. Steve sat there for a moment, blinking. What? What was that?

Before Steve could attempt to figure out what Fury had meant, Bucky walked out of his bathroom, and all of a sudden, Steve knew he was screwed.

Bucky had shaved the beard that he grown during his coma, combed his hair back, and changed into a shirt that made his blue eyes pop against his dark lashes. Steve’s stomach felt fluttery. Bucky was really attractive.

“Hey,” Bucky said, breaking Steve out of his stupor.

“Hi,” Steve said, setting his sketchbook aside.

Bucky plopped down next to him on the couch, and Steve’s nerves began to tingle. Steve really, really hated attractive people.

“So,” Bucky said, and flipped on what Steve recognized to be a Metitore. It was one of Tony’s older inventions, he had wanted to watch a few mortal shows, and had invented the Metitore, which had a huge collection of mortal tv show, games, and movies. “What do you wanna watch?”

Steve shrugged. “I don’t know. You wanna watch something new, right?”

Bucky nodded. “And you want to watch a comedy…”

Steve sat up quickly, remembering a movie that had come out while Bucky was still asleep. “We could watch Nice Guys,” he offered, thinking back to the detective movie he had enjoyed.

Bucky’s face scrunched up. “What’s it about?”

“It’s set in America in the 70’s, and it’s about this private detective, and he ends up becoming partners with this enforcer dude, so that they can find this lady that disappeared. Which ends up being a crazy experience, since everybody who gets involved with the case dies,”

“Sounds kinda cheesy,” Bucky said, looking suspicious.

Steve shrugged “Ryan Goslings in it,”

Bucky seemed to perk up a little. “He’s pretty funny,”

Steve nodded, and waited to for Bucky to set the movie up, stealing glances at him from the corner of his eye.

Bucky got into the movie really fast, and in some parts he was laughing so hard there were tears in his eyes. The thing about Bucky’s laughter was that it was incredibly infectious, something Steve learned very, very quickly.

By the end of the movie, they both had tear tracks running down their face, and Steve was incredibly tired.

He mentioned the fact to Bucky after they had calmed down, and Bucky nodded, wiping tears off his cheeks. “I can take the couch,”

Steve stood up, shaking his head. “No, it’s okay, I can take-I thought you said you had a guest room?”

Bucky looked around sheepishly “I thought I was in my other house, for a second. Sorry,”

Steve nodded, understanding immediately “I do that all the time. My rooms in the palace look just like my house down on earth, at least until you get out of bed,”

Bucky looked up sharply. “You live in the palace?”

Steve nodded, used to explaining his uncomfortable situation to confused deities. “Only because of my mom. I used to live with her, when I was a kid, but then-she wasn’t around anymore, so I got moved into the palace along with the other unaccounted for children. The only reason I still live there is because all of my friends are way more important. As soon as we all figured out what we were in charge of, they went right to Fury and somehow convinced him that they would work better with me living close to them,”

Bucky smiled, and then plopped down on the couch. “I guess I gotta sleep here now. Seeing as you are Mr. Important,”

Steve grinned in spite of himself, and rolled his eyes. “C’mon, get up. I can take the couch, you’ve been sleeping on the floor for like six months. I think you deserve to sleep in your own bed,”

Bucky scowled, and Steve began to cajole him to _at least scooch over, I’m sleeping on the couch, dammit_. Eventually, Bucky got up, and walked into his room, bidding Steve a goodnight.

Steve lay down on the couch, snuggling up against the cushions.

###############

The next morning, Steve woke pretty early. Since Bucky’s kitchen was pretty much void of all food, he sated himself with a glass of water instead of his usual cup of coffee, before sitting down, legs crossed under him. Steve began to meditate, in a way. He mentally filed through all of the prayers he had received over the past few days.

Given the amount of prayers, Steve was able to go through them all in a half hour. Normally he would go through them once he got home each night and spend ten to fifteen minutes on them, before going to bed.

Just as he was finishing his last few prayers, Bucky walked in, blinking blearily. “Why are you sitting on the floor?”

Steve shrugged. “I was just going through my prayers, and I work better on the floor,”

Bucky nodded, before his eyes widened suddenly. “Did I interrupt you? I swear I didn’t mean to, I just-”

Steve cut him off. “No, It’s fine. I just finished. The usual boring stuff,”

“I’m sure your work is far from boring. People with strong hearts? You must hear a lot of stories,”

Steve shook his head, standing up. “That’s where you’re wrong. See, I get a crap ton of prayers from d-bags who think they have strong hearts, but nothing from people who actually have strong hearts,”

Bucky scrunched up his face, something Steve was quickly finding to be incredibly endearing. “That’s terrible,”

Steve shrugged again. “‘S not that bad,”

Bucky narrowed his eyes, but didn’t press the subject.

“What are your prayers like?” Steve asked, and immediately regrette the question. Bucky’s face darkened marginally, before he brightened again, faking a smile.

“I don’t really know, but I’m sure it’s a lot better than it was before, especially since the whole Winter thing finally stopped,”

Steve nodded, knowing full well that Bucky was probably getting some nasty prayers, even as they spoke. Steve even got them, and nobody cared about him. Bucky’s storm had actually hurt people, and he was gonna have to deal with it.

Bucky’s stomach growled, and Bucky laughed sheepishly. “Are you hungry? I’m sure I can find something to eat…” Bucky began looking around, and Steve took the opportunity to enjoy the view as Bucky bent down.

Bucky stood up, with a Cup O’ Noodles, and two fruit cups. He chuckled a little bit, before placing the food on the counter. “It’s a good thing I’m so fond of mortal food, seeing as a lot of it never seems to be able to go bad,”

Steve smiled, and picked up a fruit cup, turning to the drawers to find a spoon. “That’s only the hyper-processed stuff, though. Have you ever had any, you know, good mortal food?”

“Excuse you!” Bucky said, pretending to be offended. “This is the most amazing mortal food I have ever had!”

Bucky turned to put some water in the Cup O’ Noodles, before putting it in the microwave, and opening his fruit cup. He sipped the liquid from the cup, before grabbing a fork and eating the fruit.

Steve rolled his eyes, finishing up his fruit. “Sure it is. Have you never been to Cuba? Or India?”

“Sure I have. But, I still think this fine cuisine is much better,” The microwave beeped, and Bucky pulled it out, offering it to Steve, who waved it off, claiming he was full.

“You have poor taste,”

“In what?” Bucky asked, beginning to shovel food inside his mouth.

“Everything,”

“Even friends?”

Steve smiled, teasingly looking Bucky in the eye. “Obviously not, you’re friends with me,”

Bucky laughed, looking down sheepishly. The kitchen fell silent, and Steve began to feel awkward.

Bucky stood jumped onto the counter, gesturing to the empty kitchen. “I think I can have somebody send some food, and have it be here by lunchtime. That sound good?”

Steve nodded, grateful for the subject change.

“Any foods you can’t have?” Bucky asked, already preparing to send in the order.

“I’m allergic to peanuts. And I try not to eat too much dairy,”

Bucky nodded, and pulled a pen and paper out of thin air, writing down his orders. Once he had finished, he rolled it up, and opened his mouth. “Stea Roșie!” He called, and a snowy white owl flew through the windows. Bucky began to pet the animal, and Steve noticed that it had a splash of red feathers on top of it’s head. Bucky cooed at the animal, before handing her the note, and sending her off.

“So,” he said, turning to Steve. “What do you want to do today?”

Steve shrugged. “I’m not really sure. I might draw or read, but I don’t have any work left,”

Bucky sighed, rubbing a hand through his hair. “Lucky. I should probably go through my prayers. How about we meet back up during lunch? I think I’m gonna work in my room,”

Steve nodded, and motioned to the living room. “I think I’m just gonna work there, then,”

Bucky nodded, already making his way towards the bedroom door. “Feel free to watch something, if you like,”

Steve nodded, and Bucky walked into the room, closing the door behind him.

Steve plopped down on the couch, and pulled out his sketchbook, perfectly content to spend the day being lazy.

###############

The time passed quickly, and pretty soon, Bucky was walking out of his room, and plopping down on the couch next to Steve. Bucky nudged him. “Steve,”

“Huh?” Steve asked, looking up, and blinking owlishly.

“I’ve been talking to you for the past five minutes. Did you not hear me?”

“Oh,” Steve said, looking down at his sketchbook. “No, I guess not,” Steve had managed to fill the pages of his notebook with drawing after drawing of Bucky. “I kinda space out when I’m drawing. Sorry,” Steve closed his notebook carefully, not wanting to hurt any of the drawings, but not wanting Bucky to see them either.

“Nah, it’s fine,” Bucky grabbed Steve’s hands, and inspecting his fingertips, which had been blackened by the charcoal Steve had been using. “Can I see your drawings?”

“Maybe later,” Steve said, finally looking at Bucky. Bucky’s eyes were red-rimmed, and puffy, like he had been crying to a long time. “You okay?” Steve asked, drawing his brows in concern.

Bucky sniffled involuntarily, and nodded his head. “Just a couple of people who are mad at me for...everything, I guess,” He laughed self-deprecatingly, and looked away, biting his lip.

“Bucky…” Steve said, putting a comforting hand on Bucky’s arm. “It’s okay,”

Bucky nodded, and leaned into Steve’s touch, holding back tears. “Can we put on a movie?”

Steve nodded, and grabbed the remote, turning on the Metitore. He shifted through movies, pausing on the ones he knew would give Bucky an excuse to cry. He finally selected Marley and Me, after Bucky started nudging him and pointing to it.

Bucky started crying as soon as the movie started.

After a few minutes, Steve grabbed Bucky’s shoulders, and pulled him into Steve’s arms, adjusting them so that they were both sprawled out on the couch, Bucky leaning into Steve, his head on Steve’s chest. Steve toyed with his hair, comfortingly brushing it back.

The movie ended, and Bucky’s sobs quieted, but Steve could tell from the way his body was jolting that he was trying to hold them in. “It’s okay,” Steve murmured in Bucky ear. “You don’t have to hold it in. I understand,”

Bucky nodded, and his tears began anew. Eventually he calmed down enough to talk, and he slowly stammered out an explanation. “I-I killed them. So-many-people-d-died!” and he burst into fresh tears. Steve murmured against his ear, before sitting up and grabbing Bucky’s face in his hands, making him turn to look at Steve. “Bucky. You need to understand, it wasn’t your fault. They might be blaming you, their families might be blaming you, but it wasn’t your fault. Something made you do that, and whether you tell me or not, we both know that it wasn’t your fault,”

Bucky nodded, and began to take deep breaths, calming down. They sat there for a moment before Bucky spoke up. “Alexander Pierce,”

Steve paused. Pierce was on Fury’s council, he was one of the king’s closest friends. “What?” Steve said, confused.

Bucky took a deep breath. “It was Alexander Pierce. He wanted me to-to do things. To kill people, or gods. And for a long time, I would do it. Every winter, he would give me a few targets, and I would take them out, or injure them. They always looked like accidents, of course, but nobody knew what had really happened. Me,”

Steve though back to the last few winters before this one. He remembered that a lot of gods or mortal favorites had died or gotten injured, and he couldn’t help but ask a simple question. “Why?”

Bucky’s shoulders slumped. “He told me he had my sister. Rebecca. She was the one who was supposed to take over my role if something ever happened to me. I was staying on earth, making sure winters didn’t get to bad wherever I was, so I couldn’t double check that she was actually okay. I was visiting home during a summer, when I realized that Becs was fine. Peirce hadn’t even touched her. So, I went back to earth. Pretended nothing had happened. I don’t think Peirce even realized I had visited. The next time he sent me a mission, I denied him,” Bucky took a deep breath, and kept going, tears silently streaming down his face.

“And then-” he let out a strangled sob, and Steve rubbed his back, unsure of what to do. “And then I got a message from my mom. Becca had died. Trampled by one of her horses. She always loved her horses-” Bucky broke off, unable to hold in his tears anymore. Steve pulled him into him, holding him tight, his own tears streaming down his face, and falling onto Bucky’s hair.

Steve didn’t know how long they laid there, before Bucky shifted, sitting up and looking at Steve in surprise. “You’re crying too,”

Steve nodded, rubbing his cheeks to get rid of the tears. Bucky looked at him for a long time, before beginning to speak softly. “You don’t hate me?”

“Oh my god, Bucky, of course not,” Steve said, shocked Bucky would even consider that as a possibility. “I could never hate you. Whatever you did, it’s not you. You were forced into it. You, the real you, would never do stuff like that. The real you is the nicest, kindest person I have ever met. You are not what you did.”

Bucky looked like he was going to cry again, when they both heard a soft hoot come from the counter. Bucky’s own Stea Roșie was resting on the counter, beside a large basket of food. Bucky chuckled, his tears making his voice sound wet, and he stood up, walking over to where the bird rested, brushing his fingers through her feathers. He turned away from her, and began pulling food out of the overflowing basket. Stea Roșie flew out the window.

Steve stood up, and walked over to Bucky, pulling food out, and occasionally asking where he should put certain things. After a little while, they had unpacked all the food, and were both standing tiredly in the kitchen. Bucky glanced at Steve, and looked him up and down. “Are you hungry?” Steve shook his head, and rubbed his eyes.

“I’m just tired,” He said, glancing back to the couch where he had initially spent the night.

“Me too. I think I’m gonna head to sleep,”

Steve nodded “Good idea. I’ll probably do the same,”

“Um,” Bucky started nervously, then he straightened his back and looked Steve in the eye. “Will you stay in my room with me? It’s just-whenever I think about what I did, I end up having nightmares and-”

“Bucky,” Steve interjected, smiling slightly at Bucky’s rambling. “It’s fine. I think I might feel better that way too,”

Bucky smiled, and began to walk towards the bedroom. “I’m gonna go get in my pajamas and stuff,”

“Same here,” Steve said, grabbing the clothes he had slept in the night before, and heading into the bathroom to change.

After he had changed and brushed his teeth, he hesitantly knocked on Bucky’s door, and was met with a muffled call of “Come in!”

Steve pushed the door open, and peeked in to find Bucky already in his bed, sitting up. “Could you turn the light off?” He asked, and Steve switched off the light, before walking towards Bucky’s bed and pulling back the covers, laying down and shutting his eyes.

###############

Steve rose in the middle of the night, waking to Bucky thrashing wildly, and muttering about a ‘Zimní Soldat’. Steve dodged Bucky’s thrashing limbs, so that he could take him by the shoulders and shake him awake. It took a moment for Bucky to calm down enough to start talking and breathing normally, and when he did, he was extremely confused.

“Where am I? Who are you?” He demanded, and Steve placed a comforting hand on his back, before explaining who he was and where they were, and when he did, Bucky came to his senses.

“Oh, shit, Stevie, I’m so sorry, I just-” he stopped, eyes darting around wildly as he ran his hand through his hair.

“It’s completely fine, Bucky, I’m okay, and so are you. Nothing to worry about, okay?”

Bucky nodded, and then looked at Steve. “After I found out about Becca, I passed out. I just realized that Peirce must have moved me to this house, and then to my bed, before just leaving me here,”

Steve’s anger flared up, furious that somebody could do all of these things to Bucky, and the people he loved. He shoved it down, Bucky needed him to comfort him, not lash out at thing he couldn’t change.

“He must have figured out something changed,” Steve offered, not exactly sure what to say.

Bucky nodded, looking wound up and twitchy. Steve asked him a question that had been tugging at him ever since Bucky had woken him up. “What does Zimní Soldat mean?” The syllables sounded clumsy and uncoordinated on his tongue.

Bucky blinked, and then realized what Steve was asking. “It’s what Peirce used to call me. I was his Winter Soldier,” Bucky shook his head, and then looked at Steve sharply. “How did you know about that?”

“You were saying it in your sleep,” Steve said, suddenly worried that Bucky didn’t trust him.

“Oh. Sorry, I just. You know,”

Steve nodded, understanding Bucky perfectly. Steve had had plenty of issues with trusting people as he got older, seeing as he was used to getting insults disguised as compliments from older children for a long time.

Bucky sighed, laying back down on the bed, and looking up to his ceiling. Steve followed suit, although neither of the men were tired anymore.

“Bucky?” Steve asked tentatively, turning on his side.

“Yeah?” Bucky said, looking towards Steve.

“Fury wants me to bring you back to the Main Palace, so that you can have a trial,”

Bucky was silent.

“I know it’s a lot, but-if I don’t, I don’t think I’ll be able to stay. We could send him a message beforehand, warning him about Peirce. I just-really, really need to at least prove to him that-I don’t know, you’re not evil, and that-”

“Steve.”

“Yeah?”

“It’s fine. I need to-to confront him. Peirce. It would be good for me, I think,”

Steve nodded, and then, realizing that Bucky couldn’t see him in the dark, spoke up. “Yeah,”

“Okay,”

“Okay,”

“Maybe okay can be our always-”

“Bucky, I swear to god,”

Bucky barked out a laugh, and, instinctively, pulled Steve into his chest. Steve froze for a moment, before settling, and putting an arm around the man. Soon enough, he could hear Bucky’s soft breathing, and then, Steve knew he could fall asleep.

###############

The next morning, the two men woke tangled together, and Steve had to wrestle his arm out from underneath Bucky’s pillow, before the other man woke up, mumbling about cinnamon pancakes.

“Bucky,” Steve muttered, shoving him, and fumbling for his glasses.

“Mrrghf,”

“C’mon. I’ll make you pancakes,”

“...With cinnamon?” Bucky asked hopefully, sitting up on his elbows.

Steve laughed, and pushed back the covers, getting out of bed. “Sure, but only if you get out of bed,”

“Steve.” Bucky said seriously, and Steve turned around, confused.

“What?”

“Are those really your pajamas?”

Steve looked down at the shirt he was wearing, blushing a little. “Yes!” He said defensively, crossing his arms.

Bucky started laughing, and Steve felt a little upset.

“I just-that is the most ridiculous shirt I have ever seen!” Bucky gasped out, and he looked like he was close to crying again.

“It looks good!” Steve insisted, beginning to laugh in spite of himself. The shirt in question had been a joke gift from Tony, and it was not nearly as stupid as it sounded. It was a shirt with an adorable drawing of a blushing acute angle, with a tiny speech bubble spouting from its mouth, saying ‘oh, stop it, you!’. The label read A Cute Angle.

Bucky stood up, wiping away tears. “No, no, it looks good, I just didn’t realize it last night!”

“It was a joke gift. I’m pretty sure it’s supposed to be a women’s shirt,” Steve muttered, and Bucky laughed again.

Steve crossed his arms, and lifted an eyebrow. “Do you want pancakes or not?”

Bucky sobered immediately. “Yes. Yes I do,”

Steve rolled his eyes, and headed into the kitchen, with Bucky following after.

Bucky hopped up onto the counter, while Steve walked around the kitchen, pulling out whatever he would need to make cinnamon pancakes from skratch.

“Dude,” Bucky said, pointing to a cabinet. “There’s pancake mix in there,”

“Bucky. You do not seriously expect me to make your pancakes using a mix,”

Bucky shrugged. “It’s what I usually do,”

“Remind me to never let you cook,”

“So I can’t help?” Bucky asked, cocking his head.

Steve pretended to consider. “You can help make coffee,” he said after a second, earning a blinding smile from Bucky.

Steve ducked his head, and began mixing ingredients. After a few minutes, Bucky started to whine.

“I’m hunnngry,”

“Go set the table,” Steve ordered, finalizing his pancake mixture.

Bucky returned seconds later, popping up behind Steve. “Are they even close to being done?”

Steve turned around, and almost fell into Bucky’s chest. Bucky grinned, and Steve pushed him back. “Go watch the Metitore, or something. Just stay out of my kitchen!”

“Your kitchen?” Bucky asked, but he was already backing out towards the living room.

“Yes. Now go,”

“Bossy,” Bucky said, winking at Steve, before going to plop down on the couch.

Eventually, Steve finished the pancakes, and placed a plate of them on the table, before walking out into the living room to alert Bucky. “Food’s ready,” He called, and just barely sat down before Bucky came barreling in, inspecting the table.

“What, no syrup? Or whipped cream? Honey?”

Steve made a face, and cut a bite out of his pancakes. “You put all of that on them at once? I already put cinnamon in!”

“I know!” Bucky said, before walking into the kitchen to grab the sweetest toppings he could find. Bucky returned quickly, arms full of sauces and whatnot.

“Are you going to use all of that?”

Bucky grinned “Watch me,” he said, and began dumping things on top of his pancakes.

Steve kept eating, watching Bucky with a raised eyebrow. Eventually, Bucky took his first bite, and moaned in happiness.

“Steve. These are really-” He swallowed “really good pancakes,”

“How can you tell? You smother them in so much stuff-” Steve broke off laughing, looking up at Bucky’s stuffed cheeks.

Bucky swallowed, and then stuck his tongue out at Steve.

They finished breakfast, and Bucky got up to wash the dishes, and put away all of his toppings.

Steve walked out to the living room, and plopped down on the couch, grabbing his sketchbook.

Bucky walked in, and stood in front of him, hands on his hips, and looking slightly nervous.

Steve looked up. “What’s up?”

“Do you wanna sketch me?” Bucky blurted out, before cringing a little.

“Seriously?” Steve asked, already blushing a tad.

“Uh. Yeah. I figured-maybe-nevermind,”

“No!” Steve stood up “No, it’s fine. Do you wanna do it now? I have all my stuff ready…”

Bucky gulped. “Sure. How do you wanna do this?”

Steve though for a moment, before pointing to the couch. “Sit here. Lay over it, or something, I don’t know. I can sit here-” Steve grabbed a chair, and sat down, glancing over at Bucky, before making a quick decision. “Would you be okay with taking your shirt off?”

Bucky shrugged, and sat up, pulling his shirt off swiftly. Steve gulped, and noticed a small chain around Bucky’s neck. The pendant hanging from it was a small metal piece of cursive, spelling out the word ‘Becca’

Bucky caught Steve looking, and blushed a little. “I found it in my mail yesterday. It was from my mom, I think. I hadn’t talked to her for years, way before Becca,”

Steve nodded, and waited for Bucky to get settled, before beginning to sketch out an outline. Bucky shifted at one point, and Steve looked up at him sharply. “Don’t move, you’ll mess it up,”

Bucky chuckled, but froze anyways. After a few hours, Steve had sketched all of Bucky’s torso and figure, but he was only missing Bucky’s face. He looked down at the drawing, and grimaced. Everything looked fine, but, since he hadn’t drawn the face, Bucky looked like a very muscular Slenderman.

“Hold on,” Steve said, hopping off the chair to come closer to Bucky, leaning into Bucky’s face. “I wanna try something,”

Suddenly, Bucky leaned in, cupping his hand around the back of Steve’s neck, and planting his lips on Steve’s. Steve froze, and Bucky leaned back, looking apologetic. “Sorry, I didn’t mean to-”

Steve leaned in again, kissing him to shut him up. He pulled back, smiling. “It’s okay. I just thought that was gonna go a different way,”

Bucky smiled, and sat up, pulling Steve with him, and pushed their faces together.

###############

“So,” Bucky said, wrapping an arm around Steve, pulling him close. “Can I see the drawing?”

“Well,” Steve began, turning around to look up at Bucky. “First off, that would mean I would have to get out of bed, which mean I have to put pants on, which I really don’t want to do, and second, the drawing I did of you doesn’t have a face yet,”

Bucky blinked, and then scrunched his eyebrows together. “Why?”

“Because,” Steve began. “When I tried to get the details of your face, you started kissing me,”

“To be fair, you kissed me back,”

“Still. You don’t have a face,”

“What about your other drawings?”

Steve blanched. “What?”

“The other drawings you did of me. You left your sketchbook open at one point, and I saw a few. I figured you wouldn’t mind using me as a model. I didn’t mean to intrude…”

Steve leaned in, and kissed him sweetly. “No. It’s fine. If you wanna see it though, you gotta go get them,”

Bucky groaned, and pushed back the covers, walking out to the living room.

Steve sighed, laying back down on the bed, smiling dumbly. Did that really just happen?

Bucky walked back, and jumped onto the bed, handing Steve his sketchbook. Steve opened it delicately, and looked at Bucky, who was smiling like an idiot.

“Alright,” Steve opened the book, and, starting at the beginning carefully explained all of his sketches to Bucky. Every once in awhile, Bucky would ask who a person was, or how long it took him to draw it, but most of the time he was quiet, intensely observing each drawing.

“You know,” Bucky said, “You’re pretty good,”

Steve shrugged, and closed the book, looking up at Bucky, who stared back.

“Hey,” Bucky suddenly said, jumping out of bed and grabbing the closest pair of pants, before pulling them on. “I think we should head to Fury’s Court tomorrow.”

Steve blinked, a little surprised, before hopping out of bed and pulling on some clothes. “Sure. You wanna send a message ahead to let Fury know about Peirce?”

Bucky took a deep breath, and then nodded. “Yeah. Let’s eat something, and then we can send it over?”

Steve nodded, and began walking out to the kitchen. “What do you want?”

“Why don’t we just eat box Mac N’ Cheese, or something?”

Steve smiled, and pulled out a couple of boxes, before filling up a pot with water and setting it on the stove. The water boiled quickly, and Bucky insisted he took over, pushing Steve out of the way with his hip.

Steve hopped up on the counter, and watched Bucky putter around the kitchen, humming to himself. Lunch was ready pretty fast, and Steve got up to set the table, before plopping down across from Bucky, accepting a bowl full of warm Mac N’ Cheese.

Bucky began to shovel large spoonfuls into his mouth, and Steve smiled dumbly at him. He really loved this man. Steve blanched, realizing what had just gone through his head. He was in love with Bucky, wasn’t he? Fuck.

“What?” Bucky asked, speaking around the noodles in his mouth.

“Nothing,” Steve said, smiling again, before picking up his fork, and stuffing his face.

“So,” Bucky began, clearing away the dishes. “Can we just do this now? I’m kinda stressing out about it,”

Steve nodded, and began to set up the Metitore so that it would record a message. Then, he and Bucky sat on the couch, and Bucky began to tell his story.

Bucky’s voice broke after he mentioned Becca, and he grabbed Steve’s hand before continuing. Bucky finished talking after a little while, and Steve stopped the recording, giving Bucky a few minutes to collect himself before they called Stea Roșie, and instructed her to send the message to Fury.

Bucky didn’t really seem to feel like doing anything productive after that, so he and Steve laid on the couch, watching Harry Potter until it was dinner time.

They ate leftovers, while finishing up the second movie and then starting the third. By the time the third movie was over, they were both incredibly tired.

“Whaddya say we go to sleep now, so we can wake up early to pack, and then leave?” Bucky recommended, stretching and yawning.

Steve nodded, yawning himself. “C’mon,” Bucky nodded towards his room, and Steve got up, walking over to the bathroom to brush his teeth, before sliding into bed next to Bucky letting the man’s strong arms hold him protectively, both of them slipping into a deep sleep.

###############

Steve woke up the next morning to kisses on his cheek, and the smell of coffee and toast. “Wake up, Stevie,” Bucky said softly before turning on the light and pulling open the blinds.

Steve groaned loudly, and threw an arm over his eyes, shielding them from the offensive light. “You are evil!” he cried, and Bucky chuckled.

“Get up! We gotta go. Eat your breakfast, I packed all your stuff already. And we got food. I’m just waiting on you,” Bucky poked him in the side, and Steve squealed, shoving Bucky hands away and sitting up.

“Alright! Alright! I’m, up!” Steve insisted, and Bucky pulled away, chuckling to himself.

“So you’re ticklish? Huh. I’m gonna have to remember that later,”

Steve groaned, and got out of bed, picking out some random clothes before pulling them on. Bucky pulled him out to the kitchen, and plopped him down at the table, right in front of a plate of food. “Thanks,” Steve mumbled, before digging in, pausing occasionally to take a sip of his coffee. Bucky sat across from him, drinking his own coffee, and smiling at Steve kindly.

Steve finished eating pretty fast, and stood up, gulping down the rest of his coffee. “Aright,” He said, bringing his dishes to the sink. “I’m ready,”

“Alright, alright, jeez,” Bucky teased, grabbing his pack, and handing Steve his.

They were out the door quickly, walking hand in hand. They went along in companionable silence for a few hours, before Steve spoke up. “Are you nervous?”

Bucky took a rattling breath,and looked down at Steve. “Yeah. A little. I mean, I’m sure it’ll be fine, but, still. It’s nerve-wracking,”

“Of course,” Steve said, nodding. “Fury’s probably got the message by now. Pierce must be gone,”

Bucky smiled, turned his face towards the sun. Everything was going to be okay.

###############

The next couple days passed uneventfully, and, soon enough, Steve and Bucky had reached the Main Palace, and were waiting to be welcomed into Fury’s Court.

Steve sat in the waiting area, leaning up against Bucky’s shoulder. “I’m tired,” he complained, and Bucky shifted, putting an arm around him.

“Well, you can sleep soon. We just need to get through this, and we’re good,”

Steve nodded, and, in spite of himself, let his eyes slip closed. After a little while, Bucky nudged him, and pushed him off. “Let’s go,”

Steve sat up, rubbing his eyes, before standing and following Bucky into the throneroom.

Once inside, they both bowed, and rose slowly. Steve spoke first. “Sir, I trust you received my message,”

Fury nodded. “We did. However, we are going to have to take Buchanan into custody,”

A million things seemed to happen while those few words processed inside of Steve’s head. The guards stepped forward, and Bucky...Bucky launched himself into the mess of deities who constantly advised Fury and ensured his rule was respected. He launched himself right at Pierce.

Steve brain caught up. “Bucky!” he called out, but Steve was already being restrained, and Bucky had lost control.

Alexander Pierce hadn’t been in the throne room when they had walked in, Steve had checked. That bastard must have walked in to see Bucky’s arrest, only to trigger something inside of Bucky.

“Bucky!” Steve screamed again, tiny body straining against the guards holding him. “Bucky, you need to stop!” Steve felt water on his cheeks, like someone had spit on him. He felt his breath catch and he realized he was crying. “Please!” he tried again, but his voice broke off before he could scream Bucky’s name again.

But it was enough to make the other man freeze. He stopped moving, and looked down at his hands, on of them around Pierces throat, before letting go and jumping away quickly. “Oh my god,” Steve heard him muttering, and he watched him as he sagged to the ground, his face falling into his hands. “Oh my god. I was gonna-oh my god,”

The guards let go of Steve, who rushed to Bucky’s side, pulling the man into his chest “It’s okay, Buck. You’re okay. It’s gonna be fine-” Bucky was gone.

Steve jumped up, and looked around, but Bucky had disappeared. “What happened?” Steve asked weakly, feeling tears threaten to fall again.

Fury took a deep breath, and looked Steve in the eye. “Bucky has been banished.”

###############

Soon after that, Steve’s life started to fall apart. You see, the thing about being banished is: Bucky wouldn’t remember Steve. Ever. When a god is cast down to mortality, all of their past memory of their true life if erased. Instead, their head is filled with memories of a life they never lived, one that never existed.

To put it simply, Steve wanted to give up. There was nothing he could do. Tony had scoured the earth, but there was no special map to tell them where Bucky was. Steve didn’t know where to turn. Then Sam showed up.

Tony had burst into Steve’s rooms, pulling him out of bed, and insisting that Steve come to the library. Steve had begrudgingly followed, moping along the corridors of the Main Palace.

When they had entered, Tony brushed past the front desk pulling Steve to the back of the Library. Steve, upon seeing Sam, with his huge wings, vaguely heard himself asking what was happening. Upon hearing the three words he heard in reply, Steve felt the fog that had permeated his head for the past week's fade.

“We found Bucky,”

Steve stood up straighter, and rushed to the desk, looking over the map that covered it. “Where? Where is he?”

“He’s in North America,” Sam stated “ As far as we can tell, Fury gave him a comfortable life. But, he think he was a soldier. Did a few special mission, I think he was a sniper, judging by the medals on his wall. He-he lost his arm,”

Steve gasped, and looked at the moving images that appeared in front of him. He nodded “That’s him. Bucky,”

Tony and Sam shared a look behind Steve’s back, before Sam came forward and put his hand on Steve’s arm. “Do you want to go see him?”

Steve nodded, paused, and then shrugged. “It won’t get him in trouble, will it?”

Sam shook his head vigorously, and Steve sagged with relief. “No. Bucky will be completely fine,”

Tony spoke up, feeling fidgety after not talking. “We could send him a message telling him that a god would be staying with him, and give him a couple of days to get ready. You think you could wait that long?”

Steve nodded, still looking at the picture. Tony looked back to the front, obviously wanting to get moving. “I’ll go do that, then,”

Tony left, and Sam gave Steve a hearty clap on the back, before following suit.

Steve stayed until he fell asleep that night.

###############

The next couple days passed with a blur, and, before he knew it, Steve was standing in front of a small brownstone in the middle of Brooklyn. “Okay,” he muttered, steeling himself. He did not, in the slightest, expect for his time he was going to spend with Bucky to be perfect, but he was hoping that it wouldn’t be a complete disaster. Steve knocked on the door, and almost burst into tears when Bucky opened the door.

“Oh my god,” Bucky muttered, before smiling broadly, and sticking out his hand. “I'm James. You must be Dìonday. Come on in,”

Steve shook his hand, and followed Bucky in, his heart clenching at the idea that Bucky-no, James. His name was James now. Steve reminded himself firmly. Bucky was gone, this was James.

“So, um,” James said, running his hand through his hair. “I don’t really know about this kinda thing. I’ve never had a god stay at my place before…”

Steve faked a smile, and looked over to James, ignoring just how lopsided he seemed to look without his arm. “Don’t worry, you shouldn’t even notice I’m here. I’ll keep out of your way,”

James waved a hand. “Dude. Don’t even worry about it. Make yourself at home,” Then his eyes widened. “I mean-I don’t-do I call you Dìonday, or sir, or…” He trailed off, looking like her was afraid Steve might blow him to smithereens or something.

“Call me Steve,”

James blanched. “What?”

Steve sighed, and plopped down on the couch, looking up at Bucky. “Steve. I’m guessing mortals don’t know about the whole True Name thing, huh?”

“What’s that?” James said, lowering himself onto the couch next to Steve.

“So, we all have names that the mortals call us, right? But, our True Names are basically what we call each other. So, to all of my diety friends, I am called Steve, but to anyone who worships me, I am Dìonday,”

Bucky made a face. “That’s dumb,”

Steve rolled his eyes. “Would you honestly want to have a name as ridiculous as Dìonday? Or Zelner?” Steve looked for any hint of recognition in James’s eyes, but he just laughed.

“No, I guess not,”

Steve’s eyes prickled with tears, and he had to look away. James seemed confused, but didn’t mention anything for a moment, before speaking up. “So, I got dinner, if you eat that kinda thing…”

Steve smiled wetly, and grabbed his bag. “I’m not hungry. I think I’ll head to sleep, if that’s okay?”

James nodded, and led Steve up to his room. It was small, but clean and tidy, and Steve thanked James adamantly, before closing the door, and collapsing on the bed to cry.

###############

Steve woke the next morning with a light knock on the door, and the smell of cinnamon and pancakes. “Five more minutes, Buck,” Steve mumbled, before sitting up with a jolt, remembering where he was.

Steve made his way to the door, grabbing his glasses, before opening the door. “Hey,” James said, and handed Steve his coffee. “I figured you might want some. You drink that, right?”

Steve nodded, and closed his door, walking downstairs beside James. “Believe it or not, we eat and drink the same stuff you do. We just have to eat these magical golden apples once every nine blue moons so that we stay alive,”

James’ eyes widened “Really?”

“No,” Steve said, and he couldn’t help but laugh at James’ betrayed expression.

Steve sat down at the table, and noticed a thin chain hanging from James’ neck. He nodded his head towards it. “What’s that?”

James pulled it out from under his clothes, and Steve nearly choked on his coffee. It was the same chain Bucky wore, for his deceased sister. “Oh, my mom just had a kid. Becca, she was a total accident, but the cutest little thing ever. I got this a couple weeks after mom had her, she’s my only sibling, and-are you okay?”

Steve nodded, fighting back tears. “Yeah. I’ll be fine. It’s just-you remind me of someone I knew,”

James leaned back, and narrowed his eyes, but he said nothing.

Steve gulped back the rest of his coffee, before standing back up. “I think I’m gonna head back up to my room. I got some stuff I gotta do,” the excuse sounded fake to his own ears, but James seemed to buy it, because the other man just nodded, and stood himself.

“Me too. I’ll be in the office if you need anything,” He motioned to a small room off to the side. Steve smiled, and nodded, before racing back up stairs, and closing his door again. He really needed to get his shit together.

Steve calmed his mind, and lowered himself onto the ground, crossing his legs and breathing deep, before he started to go through the prayers he had received.

He must have fallen asleep, because he was woken by James again, rapping at his door, and, when Steve looked outside, it had fallen dark.

“Come in,” He said, and his voice sounded raspy and unused.

“So…” James began, lowering himself onto the floor next to Steve. “I need to ask you something,”

Steve nodded, and leaned against his bed.

“Was I someone?”

Steve bunched his eyebrows together, and looked at James quizzically. “I don’t understand,”

“Like. Was I someone important to you? Did I know you?”

Steve’s eyes widened, and he took a deep breath. “Yes. You were a god. You were banished. And I came to find you,”

“What was my name?”

“To the mortals, you were Zelner, but to me, you were Bucky,”

James gasped, and looked over to Steve. “Yeah. I think I kinda remember that. For as long as I could remember, everything felt kinda wrong. I mean, everything. My memories, my arm, even my name...But Bucky? Bucky’s real. I like that. Bucky,”

He smiled at Steve, and suddenly, he was Bucky again. Steve found himself wanting to pull him in and kiss him senseless, but, instead, he smiled softly. “Yeah,”

“What was the whole Becca thing?”

Steve took a deep breath, and glanced at Bucky from under his eyelashes. “She was your real sister, I think. She was a god, but she-she died. And, whenever a god dies, they get reborn as an infant. She must be almost a year old now, yeah?”

Bucky nodded, and smiled. “She was the only other thing that felt real. You wanna know something crazy?”

“What?” Steve asked, feeling as though nothing had really changed since he had met this same man months ago.

“I think I’ve had dreams of you. Or who I was before. I just remember that you were important. Something happened…” He trailed off, looking frustrated.

“You might remember your other life, you might not. It all depends on a lot of things. I could-” Steve took a deep breath, and looked Bucky in the eye. “I could, help, if you wanted. For you to remember things,”

Bucky nodded, looking extremely happy at the idea. “That would be amazing. I just-I don’t feel complete. At least I didn’t, until-” he stopped, shaking his head. “I won’t be able to sleep tonight. You wanna watch a movie?” he asked, unsubtly changing the subject.

Steve nodded, and stood up. “Sure. Let’s go,”

###############

The next few months was full of slow but sure remembrances. Bucky would remember something, or ask a question, and, all of a sudden, he was a slightly different person. On one day, Bucky was eating breakfast, when he suddenly jumped up, before bursting into tears. He had remembered what he had done to get him banished, all of the deaths and attacks, and betrayal. The day had ended with them both curled up in Bucky bed, Steve stroking Bucky’s soft hair, when the larger man looked up. “Steve,” He said, looking very serious.

“Yes?” Steve asked, looking down into Bucky’s blue eyes.

“Were we in love?”

The question took Steve’s breath away, but, after a few seconds he was able to answer. “I know I was,”

Bucky had suddenly smiled and said “Good, I was worried I had just imagined it,” Before leaning up to kiss Steve, and everything was okay again.


End file.
